


greenhorns

by FuchsiaPaper



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Army, Assault, Bar, Bondage, Horny idiots, Kinda, M/M, Restraints, Triple Threat Ending | TT (Henry Stickmin), blowjob, drunk, two v one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuchsiaPaper/pseuds/FuchsiaPaper
Summary: Quentin's usually been able to handle any new recruits just fine, but this pair--Josh and Drake--might prove to be a bit too much for him.Most particularly, their more.. drunken antics ;)---An indulgent and random one-shot based off a VERY inspiring work of art by @sandyass_ on twitter ;D
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin, Drake Camper/Josh Taylor, Drake Camper/Quentin Alabaster/Josh Taylor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	greenhorns

**Author's Note:**

> managed to squeeze this in between midterms lmao i hate myself

It's not often when General Galeforce would let his units go into rest mode and leave the area of operations, granting a liberal amount of time for the soldiers to rest, explore local fauna, or (most popularly) drink. But when he does, nearly everyone decides to book it to the nearest tavern to let it loose for the night.   
Such as now.

Quentin Alabaster wasn't one to be overly fond of such interludes, but he understood where Galeforce's generosity came from. Their recent mission had been an immense success, and much of it was thanks to their new special ops unit. Who'd have thought two reformed thieves would become part of their greatest agent team yet?

Well, two reformed thieves, and a certain pilot Quentin was all too familiar with. Speaking of,

"Heyy Alabaster!" He turned around to a waving Charles, and accepted the warm side hug.

"Charles, congrats on the mission!" He patted him on the back. Sure, the thieves were the ones who did most of the groundwork, but this mission saw a lot of rough weather on their part. To swoop in just on time to catch the agents _midfall_ in winds as dangerous as before, was impressive to say the least. Yet, he wasn't too surprised.  
"You've come a long way since your enlisted days."

Charles scratched his neck, walking further into the bar with him. Quentin had barely entered the place before Charles called out for him. The place was pretty crowded, but it wasn't overbearing. More cozy than anything else.  
"Aw, thanks man. But it wasn't just me. Hen and Ellie did most of the work."

"Team effort." Quentin elbowed him. "Also.. Hen??"

Charles cleared his throat. "Anyways, how're the new recruits treating ya?"

Now typically, Quentin wouldn't let him slide by a subject change like that. But.. oh boy, did he have things to say on that topic. He scoffed. "Where to begin."

"That bad?"

"The two greenhorns puts under me.." He sighed. "Let's just say.. they're in their element tonight."

"Oof. Sounds rough.. say, isn't that them over there?" Charles pointed to the end of the bar table, where sure enough, Josh and Drake were getting positively smashed.

"Ugh, great." Quentin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I came here to get a bit of beer, not babysit them again. Think I'll stay here."

"If you say so. I'll go find Henry and Ellie. I got a text from Hen a few minutes ago.. I think Ellie's about to break the pool table or something. See ya!" Charles did a mini salute. Quentin shooed him off, sitting down to order a beer like he said.  
He wouldn't say he was a lightweight, but he never tried to go beyond getting a little tipsy. Wiping a trace of foam away from his beard, his eyes couldn't help but wander back over to the other end. Quentin tried to ignore the urge to watch over them, but he knew his will was always weakened by liquor, so he gave.  
  
It was now almost _instinctual_ for him to keep an eye on them, given the amount of times they got into trouble or snuck away to a tavern unsupervised. He really should've reported their incompetence ages ago, but.. aside from a few instances where they came to a mission late from their alcoholic tendencies... they seemed dedicated enough.

He took a larger sip, looking down at his half empty mug. He saw it as a part of his job; to break them in, discipline the newbies enough for them to pull the worse habits under reins. So, Quentin would be lenient to them, as he had been with all the other past recruits. To a reasonable extent anyway.

Downing the rest of the beer, he slammed it down and stretched. He would've ordered a shot or two afterwards, but then he took a double take, noticing that the two mischief makers were now gone. He silently prayed that they wouldn't do anything stupid like, get into a bar fight or something, but it turns out he didn't have to wait very long to find out where they've gone to.

Because they were apparently right behind him.

"Boo!" Quentin huffed, and twisted around to the wasted boys.

"Taylor. Camper." He greeted them, putting his cup aside. "Having a good time?"  
He knew that they absolutely were; their lips were obnoxiously reddened, and they didn't bother in the slightest to cover up their hickeys. He immediately suspected the two were each other's cause; it wasn't like they were subtle about it before.

"Yeap." Josh hiccupped. "But, it should for sure get gooder. Uhp- better."

"Really now." Quentin fully turned around on his stool, humoring them.

"Uh-huh!" Drake stumbled closer, hanging an arm around Quentin lazily. "Josh actually, really, _really_ wants to make it better. But like, we're gonna need to go the back fer that."

Quentin rose a brow. "The back..?" He eyed the door behind the bar, and the bartender serving drinks not too far away. "I advise you two to avoid aggravating the locals. You don't know how they migh--hey!"

The two suddenly shuffled away, loudly barging through the backdoor, _without_ the bartender noticing somehow. Quentin blinked, then rubbed his face frustratedly. "You have got to be kidding me."

He contemplated letting the staff know, but ultimately decided to go drag the two out himself. They were stationed in a foreign country off east, and he didn't know just how much offense they'd take to a bunch of foreign soldiers wreaking havoc in their storage rooms, so off he went.

Quentin slipped into the backdoor without detection, grumbling under his breath as he searched for a light switch. Idiots didn't even turn it on, so here he was fumbling through the dark, blindly groping at random counters, casks, and some warm potato sack--

That was alive.

Before he could step back, two arms wrapped around his torso and _tugged_ him further into the dark room, getting crowded against some corner. Once he heard the sound of a door shutting, then _locking,_ that's when he started to get worried. He could usually break out of a wrestle hold easily, but as he tried to break free, he found that his arms were somehow held securely in place by some.. rope? What the hell??

"Alright that's it. Josh? Drake! Let me-"

The lights turned on, and Quentin squinted, getting used to the sudden brightness. He knew there was a body behind him, but he _didn't_ know that there was now one right in front of him. Josh.

Quentin grimaced. "What do you two think you're doing now."

Drake's voice brushed against his ears, tickling. "Making things gooder, hehe."

Quentin tried the restraints again, but they were surprisingly firm. He reached his hands up to feel up the knot, and sputtered.

"Is that a goddamn bowline knot? You two had trouble with that for days!"

"Hahah, we practiced just for youu!" Drake's voice slurred as he handled the rope; miracle he managed it at all in this state. Then again, everyone was taught to be able to tie the standard knots even when disorientated.  
It wrapped only around his arms, behind his back, like a sort of cuff but up above his elbows. Quentin nearly wanted to tear his beard out; of all the ways for them to demonstrate their skills..

"That's just great, but you really shouldn't use it in a prank like this. So, you can let me out of this now."

"Aww, but we haven't even done anything yet." Drake put his arms through the gap between the rope and his back, wrapping them around till they barely met each other on Quentin's chest. Josh was still on him, pushing him against Drake for support, but now he was sliding downwards. It was only when Josh's knees hit the ground, his hands dragging all the way down his jacket, that it finally clicked in Quentin's head.

"Are you boys _insane??"_ Quentin gawked, watching Josh wrap his fingers behind his knees. "How many pints did you drin--"  
He grit his teeth as Josh nudged his mouth high up against his inner thigh, and while he could've probably just shoved back and kick Josh off in the face, he didn't quite want to explain to the General _why_ or _how_ one of the soldiers under his supervision got a bruise to the eye. And mainly because he'd likely get into trouble no matter what; even if it were out of self defense, he let them go into the backroom to begin with. He was in charge of these fools. So, he kept trying diplomacy.

"I am going to make you two run 56 extra laps for this--is that what you want?" Diplomatic threats that is.

Drake hooked his chin over Quentin's shoulder, whining. "But sirrr, we thought you said you _wanted_ to bust our asses and stuff."

Quentin was going to die. "That was an _expression_ you dolt- unbelievable." He tried yanking himself out again, but Drake was a lot stronger than he thought, and it made all his orders for their extra training almost seem bittersweet. "You two are really going to regret this."

"We jus wanna make you feel nice though." Drake leaned in closer as Josh zipped down his jacket, opening up to his plain black shirt beneath.

"Ooh, thas a pretty necklace."

"Thank y--what am I even doing, let me out of here! You two aren't supposed to be back here, and if anyone-"

"Finds out, we'll allll get into trouble, right?" Drake finished his sentence, drowsily lolling his head side to side. Quentin tried to give him a glare, but he was too far behind.

"YOU two, will get into trouble. I.." Quentin trailed off. It honestly depended on who was going to receive the complaint. Galeforce was fairly forgiving, so he might understand. But anybody higher up... well, militant justice was a two-edged sword at times.

He groused. "Oh fine, I'll get into trouble too. But only because of you guys. Just.. let me out, and I'll take you both outside. If you boys are nice about it, I'll even try and pretend none of this ever happened." Quentin should've know the second he dipped into bargaining with _these_ guys, it was going to be all downhill from there.

"But, if we just.. go on like nothing happened..." Drake paused, collecting his words. "We, we might as well do this, right?"

"You two are utterly drunk, and I'm.. not as drunk. Either way, you both aren't in the right mind to-"

"Yer not sayin no though." Quentin closed his eyes, both at Drake's catch and Josh trying to unbuckle his belt.  
He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he hasn't ever _once_ thought the two soldiers looked a little-- _a little_ mind you--attractive. They were annoying as all hell, but they were also young and motivated. Fit enough for him to appreciate.

So with his already crumbling will softened by beer and, let's face it, Josh's eyes looking up at him weren't doing him any good either--Quentin couldn't respond effectively.

"Come on sir, I'm just.. tryna help out my buddy here." Quentin rolled his eyes; he was certain they already passed the _buddy_ threshold. "Josh here really wants to like, suck you off. Sooo."

Quentin gulped, glancing down. After much fumbling, Josh finally succeeded in loosening his belt. Enough to open his trousers and slip a hand in to rub against his--unsurprisingly--hardening dick, the thin underwear not hindering his touches at all. He grunted, feeling hotter than he already was before.

"We'll be quick about it, pr'mise." Drake shifted his arms higher up, beneath the jacket. They gripped at his shirt, raising it slowly.

Josh kept rubbing his base, bringing it to life as he admired the revealing abs. "Whoaa sir, you've got like.. like, killer abs. Nicee." Quentin wanted to tell them to just shut up, but then Josh unceremoniously peeled down his underwear right then, leaving him to only gasp instead.

"Fffuck man, look." Josh gestured to Drake. Drake peered over, and whistled lowly.

"Damn, that's like.. um, eight inches or something."

"Naw naw, it's nine."

"Will you get it over with already?!" Quentin impatiently spat out, then froze. Drake and Josh did too.

"Oh.. my god." He could hear the smile in Drake's voice and he _hated_ how he could tell. "He basically, just ordered you to suck his dick." Quentin didn't even bother with a rebuttal. He was that done.

"Sir yessirr." Josh giggled, then licked a long stripe up Quentin's stiff cock, making him rasp tightly into the air.

"Shhit." Quentin shuddered at the continuing licks, and Drake continued to pull the rest of his shirt upward. But he couldn't reach high up enough, so he just settled for slipping his hands underneath it, feeling out the pecs. The licking very quickly turned to sucking, as Josh began lapping at the head, noisily slurping the plentiful precum spilling forth.  
"God dammit.." He was SO going to regret this in the morning, Quentin already knew.

"Mmf." Josh went deeper, humming a little at how wet everything was, and Quentin had to stuff his moans down to the bottomless abyss to keep it in. But he wasn't able to keep quiet any longer once Drake started to focus his fondling to his nipples, squeezing his chest indulgently.

He threw his head back slightly, keening lowly, and Drake instantly moved in on his neck, nosing beneath the curly beard.  
"C-christ.. nnh--" Drake nibbled a hickey high up, and Quentin didn't reprimand him since it could easily be concealed by said beard.  
His core flinched more as Josh sucked faster, going nearly halfway down on his cock. Josh seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the slobby mess dribbling down his chin, and Quentin _really_ shouldn't have looked down because _fuck_ did the sight make him want to thrust upward. But he figured he ought to control himself, so he held back, biting down his lips at the doubling sensations.

" _Mn.._ hmnn!" Josh's whining kept getting louder, and Quentin reopened his eyes curiously, not having realized he closed them to begin with.  
Josh had a hand down his own pants, jerking himself off as he wantonly swallowed around the dick, pumping the rest with his other hand. Quentin finally moaned outloud, overhearing staff be damned.

"That's it.. relax." Drake flicked his fingers across the perked up nipples harshly, and Quentin jolted.

"Watch yourself."

"Hehe, sorry." Drake was entirely unapologetic, doing it over and over again. Quentin growled, his body now entirely leaned up against Drake, legs propped wider apart as Josh dug in.

Seething heat quickly spread from his groin to every limb, and after Josh at last gobbled down the full length (rather impressively, not gonna lie) it reached all the way up to his head.  
"Holy crap- you..!" Quentin strained, feeling hot drool coat his cock completely, throat constricting around the throbbing middle repeatedly. Josh's nose was buried into the brown tuft of hair just above, and for whatever reason, that made his cock twitch. "Hah... ohh shhit."

He was getting close, unable to stop himself from making mini jerks up into the incredibly warm mouth. Drake kept rubbing circles into his chest, teasingly pinching now and again, and the caressing only got rougher with time.

With all the stroking across his chest and cock and--was that Drake's own boner rutting up against his back? Yep, yep it was. Anyhow, between all the different sensations, Quentin was surprised he didn't cum sooner. But when he did, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that it was a doozy.

"FfffF _FUCK!!"_ A handful of people outside probably heard that, but Quentin couldn't bring himself to care as he orgasmed, back arching up as he moaned to high heaven. Drake whimpered into Quentin's ear as he grinded himself to cum in his pants, and Josh followed suit, having enough drunken decency to wet his boxers rather than the floor.  
He did a whole body jerk when the ministrations continued after he came, making him pant as he bore it out.  
"Urg, you guys are the worst.." 

Quentin quivered as Josh gulped him down, cleaning him up to the very last drop, and he withdrew in a savory pop.  
Propping his neck unto his hip, Josh looked up (not at all unlike a puppy) and gave a dopey grin.

"Thank you sir." _Oh-fucking-kay then._ Quentin, back to being beet red, stifled a groan and motioned his hands to have Drake untie him.

"Oh right." Drake clumsily undid the knot, freeing Quentin to massage his sore muscles. "That was reaally fun, hehe. We're gon.. we're gonna go back to our barracks... clean up." Quentin dressed himself up again, shaking his head. No they weren't. He's heard them enough times over the showers to know that they were planning for round two.

There wasn't much else Quentin could really say after a fantastic fucking climax such as that but, "You boys stay out of trouble." They nodded giddily, stumbling on out the back after unlocking the door. It was a simple latch.  
He rubbed his temples, in dazed disbelief. "Good grief.. here we go."

He opened the doors, and maybe he was just too tired to give a damn, but he wasn't really surprised when he saw Charles a few feet outside, about to enter in with (surprise surprise) Henry. Turns out this room was a popular tourist detour. Honestly, it was the staff's fault at this point for being so negligent.

"O-oh! Alabaster- I uh.." Charles shoved at Henry to stop kissing at his collar, but the agent didn't seem to really care. Neither did Quentin.

"Just mind the mess." Quentin waved them off, walking away to elsewhere in the bar, leaving Charles and Henry to do whatever the fuck and find the mess out for themselves.

He needed a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed!  
> i need a drink


End file.
